Poison Apples
by turn-off-my-heart
Summary: The princess who eats the poison apple has tainted lips. Sucks for the prince that's gotta wake her up then. - SamusPeach - rated for really vauge sex but it's still sex.


Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, don't own the franchise, don't make a profit.

a/n: my profile is lacking in sexy samusxpeach. what is this bullshit.

_…_

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_poison apple_

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_samxpeach_

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_…_

"You'll cut yourself."

Samus lifts her eyes, gazes at Peach from beneath her lashes and bangs. She pulls the blade of the knife from the apple she had been peeling, rolls the weapon in her palm for a short while. She doesn't need to talk-just an upward quirk of the right corner of her lip has Peach frowning and crossing her arms over her chest.

"You would have gotten hurt," Peach says. "You were cutting towards your fingers."

Samus shrugs simply, returns to peeling the apple-and on purpose, she points the edge of the blade towards her fingers. The princess stiffens, and her frown deepens.

"You're going to cut yourself," Peach warns again.

"I think I know how to handle a weapon, Princess," Samus says in a low voice.

"You know how to handle a _gun._"

"Your point is?" More curving twists. Red skin curls in the air, still damp with sweet juices and bits of apple flesh

"I don't want to see you hurt."

"How thoughtful." Another peek through blonde bangs, another gaze that holds something of a deeper, darker nature. "Warms my heart to see you so worried, Princess."

"I have a name you know," Peach whispers.

"I know." Samus sets the knife down onto the table top, allowing the freshly peeled apple to rest upon the paper towel she set out. She absentmindedly raises her fingertips to her lips and licks them clean. "I like calling you Princess."

"I don't like it."

"Which is why I like to call you that."

"Why do we do this, Samus," Peach sighs, exasperatedly so. "Why do we antagonize each other like this?"

"Ooh, big words. I love it when you use big words, Princess. Gives me _chills._"

"See what I mean?"

"We antagonize each other because we're different," Samus says, leaning back in her chair to gaze up at the fluorescent lights. "We're _too_ different," she adds, " and this is because we lead very different lives."

Peach sits at the table across from her, all graceful and elegant like a trained poodle. Samus resists the urge to curl her lip in disgust.

"Elaborate," Peach says, and her eyes are so blue Samus is reminded of the ocean.

"Do I have to?" Peach scowls. "It's simple. You're a princess. You grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth."

"Hmm, I haven't heard _that_ one before." The sarcastic tone of Peach's musical voice is somewhat upsetting.

"I'm a bounty hunter. I kill." Samus raises her right hand, points the index finger at Peach's head and says, "Bang, you're dead. Then I get paid."

"Have you ever loved?" The question is so sudden, Samus is thrown back for a moment.

Then Samus lets out a loud bark of laughter, amused at the notion. "Please. Who has the time for love anymore?"

"This is true," Peach says, nodding. Her lips curl. "Are you going to eat that?" She points to the apple.

"Aren't princesses supposed to avoid apples?" Peach raises her eyebrows. "You know, that story about the princess who fell asleep because an evil witch gave her a poison apple?"

"I didn't know you read fairytales, Samus."

"I never said I did, Princess."

Peach laughs low in her throat. "Then how do you know it?"

"Well, it's my little secret, I suppose."

Peach takes the apple.

"Sure you wanna take the chance, Princess?"

Peach takes a bite, in defiance. She licked her lips free of lingering flavor. The apple still rests in the palm of her hand. Samus' eyes are flashing dangerously, a mix of haunted cyan and seafoam that strikes one of Peach's heartstrings.

So she takes another bite. The look in Samus' eyes seems to flicker, then waver-like a candle flame. The hottest fires burn blue, after all.

"I'm sure," Peach says after she swallows the second bite. "Because you're not an evil witch. And I trust you."

The words seem to hit something within Samus; she closes her eyes and appears to savor the sound of the words and their deeper meaning.

"But let's be funny for a moment," Peach suggests, and Samus' eyes open. "Say this apple was poisoned. Say I fell asleep and never woke up."

Samus is silent.

"You know how the story ends. Kiss of love to break the spell."

"You'd be shit out of luck, Princess." Samus' blunt response makes her nearly crack a grin.

"There's Mario."

"No." Samus glares.

"There's Zelda."

"I didn't think princesses kissed other princesses to break spells."

"A bounty hunter, then?"

Samus smirks. "I reiterate, you'd be shit out of luck. I don't love you. And I'll be damned if I let Falcon or Wolf near your unconscious body."

"Aw, so protective. It's kind of sweet."

"Kiss my ass."

"I have a better idea." Peach leans forward an their lips just brush; so softly, so silently. It's like it never happened, like it's a fairytale all on it's own. Samus doesn't react; her lips are parted to say a word when Peach's lips cover her own again and steals the words away.

Samus reacts.

A hand reaches behind Peach's head to hold her there-and Peach learns that Samus doesn't really know how to kiss. Her lips are comically awkward; too much pressure, not melding. Just pressing down. Giggles lost in her throat, Peach pulls back and asks, "Haven't you kissed a girl before?"

"Fuck you," Samus says, and they kiss a third time. Peach sighs and almost closes her eyes when Samus' lips are better this time-softer. Learning how to fuse and how to conform, how to slide and how to touch; Samus takes in the new information and notes that Peach's lips taste like apples.

They part; Peach is slightly winded and Samus can't seem to take a good breath.

"There's one thing I've wondered about the story," Samus says.

"What?" Peach whispers, and her fingers reach up to graze against Samus' cheek.

"When the princess eats the apple, her lips get poisoned too, right? So when she gets kissed, she's basically sentencing her rescuer to death." Samus' lips are quirked into that damn smirk again. "That's why I hate princesses. They're pretty damn selfish."

"Yeah," Peach mutters softly, pulling at the collar of Samus' zero suit. "We're pretty damn selfish."

They kiss a fourth, a fifth, a sixth time. Light pecks turn into something sweeter. Deeper. The rush is exhilarating.

Samus fingers move over the clasps of Peach's dress. They come undone, and Samus' fingertips etch into the princess' skin, over the soft ivory of her sternum and the gentle swells of her breasts Her lips follow her fingers and she is constantly reminded of the differences between them. Where Samus has scars, Peach has smooth, warm planes of silk. Where Peach has soft curves, Samus has strong angles.

"Samus," Peach suddenly whines in her ear, clutching at the slippery latex of the zero suit and the strands of hair not contained by her ponytail. "I-I'm...I'm afraid-"

Samus pulls back, hovers over Peach's sweat slicked and trembling form. "Of what?"

"That you might-that you'll-" Peach swallows, closes her eyes. "That-"

Samus leans down. "What?"

"That you'll be hurt," Peach finally says.

And Samus wonders if anyone has ever worried over her this much. She wonders if anyone has cared enough this much.

"Stop," Samus croaks, moved, "stop worrying like-like that. I'm not worth it."

Peach's fingers slip under the zero suit and every ridge of scarred flesh she meets, she smooths it over and says, "Yes you are."

And the moment is so warped and twisted and perfect that the corners of her eyes burn.

"You're crying," Peach suddenly cries, touching the moisture gathered and trailing over the bounty hunter's cheeks, "Sammy, why are you crying?"

Samus' eyes are glittering again, glazed over with an emotion that Peach doesn't think about naming. Fingers slide to the center of her sex, slide over, slip in; curl. She throws her head back and Samus' lips and teeth fasten to the crook of her neck. She sighs and Samus' tears drop hot onto her skin, burning like acid onto her flesh.

But Peach doesn't mind. Samus is human too. It's her right to cry.

Peach doesn't ask again; just accepts the bliss that's steadily building up up _up up __**upupupup--**_

..

"You passed out."

"I...I did?"

Samus chuckles; warmly. She reaches out and brushes strands of hair out of Peach's eyes, a tender gesture that seems so utterly out of place that they both have to stare a little.

"I'm embarrassed," Peach admits. "To pass out after..."

"It's okay," Samus says, "I thought it was adorable."

Peach flushes even more.

"C'mon, Peach," Samus murmurs into her ear. "I made you co-"

"-Samus!-"

"-that hard, it's natural. Apparently I'm that good."

"Don't give yourself so much credit," Peach says, but on the inside, she's delighted that Samus actually called her Peach. "I don't have another experience to compare it to."

"Huh, that's odd," Samus says, "because I'm lacking in that department too."

"We're not so different after all then?"

"Give me a break."

_.._

_end_

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a/n: confusing as hell ain't it.


End file.
